A while later, after they had been duty-free shopping, Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Brendon.
“I know what you’re going to ask, so don’t even bother.”
“Oh do you, Brendon? Are you in my brain? Can you hear my thoughts? I didn’t think so,” Ryan questioned. “What was I going to say then?”
“Well, Ryan, you were going to ask something along the lines of ‘where are we going?’ weren’t you?” Brendon said, knowingly.
“Oh damn, you know me too well. So, where are we going then?”
Brendon sighed, and then looked at Ryan, his irresistible smile beaming at him.
“Fine then. You’re obviously not going to give it a rest, are you?”
Ryan shook his head so Brendon carried on.
“We are going… drum roll please…” Brendon began, as Ryan stamped his feet on the floor.
“We are going… to… Canadia!”
Ryan gave a short squeak and started to flail, then said “Don’t you mean Canada?”
“No, listen. If you are Australian, where do you come from?”
“Australia, naturally.” Ryan replied.
“Okay, so if you are Russian, where do you come from?”
“Russia”
“Well done, Ryan. You’re getting good at this and if you come from India, what are you?”
“Indian”
“Yeah, so if you are Canadia, where do you come from?”
“Canada”
“NO, that doesn’t make sense. It’s Canadia. If you where from Canada, you would be a Canadan, just like Americans are from America.”
“That is some fucked-up logic, Brendon. Ryan laughed, as he though about what Brendon had been saying.
“You wouldn’t understand, Ryan. You would need a brain to do that.”
“Brendon, I’m hurt. I thought you loved me. I guess I was wrong.” Ryan said, as he turned away, hurt in his voice.
“Oh Ryan. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have booked this holiday to Canadia,” Brendon said, sliding his arms round Ryan. He stood there for a while, until he noticed the grin on Ryan’s face.
“You asshole. I thought you were being serious,” Brendon said, while punching Ryan playfully on the arm.
“I love you, Brendon. I’ll never stop.”